Just Like You
by Elhini Prime
Summary: Ares has a bit of a temper problem. His father decides that he is going to help control that. Father&Son fluff!


**So...I wanted to write something not angsty for once...I missed doing fluff. This oneshot is mainly about Panth and his son, Ares. Ares has a bit of a temper problem so Panth teaches him how to control it...just like he was taught years ago. This one is dedicated to a good friend of mine who currently isn't feeling so well...just wanted to brighten her day as well!**

Just Like You

 _"You have to talk to him,"_ Leona's voice rang through his skull, _"He's been insufferable. He looks up to you…"_

Pantheon shook his head as he remembered his wife's instruction. But how in the world was he going to talk to a four year old about not being so destructive?

 _"Well…he_ is _our son…"_ Arthur, Pantheon's Chosen's, voice replied, _"I mean. We aren't the Artisan of Peace…"_

"Nor are we the Artisan of Wonton Destruction, Arthur, you know that," Pantheon sighed, "the boy has to learn…as I did when I was his age,"

He came into his young son's room and looked at the black, curly head that was dejectedly bowed in the corner.

 _"Wow, his mother really lay into him, didn't she?"_ Arthur murmured.

"No doubt…" Pantheon stated, walking towards the corner and laying a hand on the boy's shoulder, "Ares?"

Ares Leonidas, Leona and Pantheon's youngest child, looked up at his father, his golden eyes slightly defiant as the faint remains of tears lay on his cheeks. Rakkoran boys didn't cry. Or at least…not where anyone could see.

"Do you understand why your mother sent you to time out?" Pantheon asked slowly.

"'cause I broke Apolla's toy," came the boy's sweet lisp.

"And why did you break it?"

"Because she wouldn't lemme have a turn and I was mad…"

"You do know you are not to do that, correct?" Pantheon asked, disapproval on his face.

"Yes, Daddy," Ares mumbled dejectedly, "I just…it just blew up…"

The boy didn't notice his father's eyes shift color as he was hugged by the Champion. Arthur stroked the boy's black curls and picked him up.

 _"He_ is _like me,"_ Pantheon sighed, _"I had the same problem as a boy. But…I do know how to fix it. Or at least…it worked for me. Bring him to the kitchen,"_

Arthur gave a nod and walked towards the area, setting the boy on the counter as his Champion took back control.

"Daddy?" Ares asked, blinking.

"When I was a boy, not much older than you," Pantheon started, grabbing some things from around the kitchen, "I had the same problem. My anger tended to explode at the worst possible times, often hurting someone else. I always apologized, but my mother and father knew something had to be done. So, my mother took me aside…"

He picked Ares up off the counter, placed him on a stool, and ruffled his hair.

"And she taught me how to bake," he smiled.

"…But that's girl stuff!" Ares whined.

"You would think that," Pantheon chuckled, "But to be honest, it has helped me. I am going to help you the same way. Or, would you like to spend far more time in the corner than you'd like?"

"I wanna learn!" Ares yelped, sitting up straight, "The corner is borin',"

Pantheon laughed and brought the boy over to the small wellspring that trickled through the house.

"First, you need to wash your hands," he instructed as Ares did so, "And there are four other rules to baking."

"What are they?" Ares asked.

"One, listen to the adult in charge," the Champion ticked off his fingers, "Two, there is no such thing as a bad question. Three, pay attention…"

"And the last?" Ares asked.

"The most important of them all," Pantheon told him, "have _fun_. Now. Do you see that bowl there?"

"Mhmm!" Ares nodded, grabbing it.

"I want you to fill it with water and set it near the fire, to warm it," Pantheon instructed.

Ares did so, toddling to the hearth and setting it next to the coals while his father quietly stood beside him, making sure the boy did not drop the bowl or spill the water. Once the water warmed, Pantheon sat his son on his shoulder and picked up the bowl with one hand, walking back to the prepared area. He sat his son on the stool again and sat the bowl on the counter.

"Now, you see this here?" he asked the boy as he pointed to a burlap sack, to which Ares nodded, "This is flour and in these piles over here are salt and yeast. I want you to take two handfuls of the flour and put it in the bowl along with this pile of yeast and salt,"

Ares giggled as he reached into the sack and grabbed a messy fistful of flour, tossing it into the bowl. He reached to get another handful when he suddenly gave a sneeze, sending white powder spraying into the air over both him and his father.

"Oops!" Ares blinked, "S-Sorry Daddy!"

Pantheon chuckled and ruffled the boy's hair, dusting it off.

"Happens to all of us, Ares," he told the boy as he took a bit of flour and put it in the bowl as well as the yeast and salt, "Now…next, for my special recipe..."

He picked up a small ceramic jar and handed it to Ares. Ares' eyes lit up as he recognized it.

"Honey!" he chirped, reaching for it, only for his father to hold it out of reach, "Daaaaddddyyyy!"

"This is not for eating…yet…" Pantheon smiled, "We need to put it in the bowl,"

"Aw…" Ares pouted as his father uncapped the jar and poured some of the golden contents in the mixture.

"Now, we need to mix it all together," the older Rakkoran instructed, handing a wooden spoon to his son.

Ares' eyes lit up as he put the spoon in the bowl and started stirring, but after a few minutes, it started getting hard. He felt his father's hand wrap over his and help stir. The boy looked up at his father.

"Daddy, will my hands be as big as yours someday?" he asked, "My hand is about as big as your palm!"

Pantheon smiled and leaned his chin on the boy's head.

"Perhaps," he told him, "When you were born, your hands were so tiny….like little stars…no bigger than my thumb. Now look how big they are!"

Ares giggled as his father took the spoon out of the bowl.

"Now what?" Ares asked.

"It's a good thing you made such a mess with the flour earlier," Pantheon chuckled, "Because we need to put some flour on the counter here. I am going to put a little more on there…just to be safe,"

"Okay!"

The Artisan of War did so, feeling his Chosen's amusement as he watched Ares already doodling in the powder. Pantheon took the mixture out the bowl and set it on the counter in the flour.

"Now…to knead the dough," he told his son, taking Ares' tiny hands and pressing them into the dough, "This is a bit harder to do later on...but you want to make it so that it's light and 'fluffy'. You don't want to be chewing on a brick, do you?"

"Ew! No!" Ares squealed as he started stretching and pounding the dough, "Huh…this is fun! Daddy…was this the part that helped you not be angry?"

"Mhmm," came the hum, "You take your aggression out on this here rather than on others. That way you calm yourself and don't hurt those you care about,"

"But you fight for the League! And you beat 'em up there!"

"Yes," Pantheon admitted, "But that is a part of my job. I am still the Chieftain…and the summons do not come often, so I use this to keep from snapping,"

"Oh…that makes sense," Ares nodded, starting to struggle to get the dough to move, "Daddy…it's getting hard…am I doing it wrong?!"

"No, you are doing fine," Pantheon told the boy, helping the child knead, "You're just not strong enough yet to do this on your own,"

"I'm strong!" Ares protested.

"Yes you are," Pantheon agreed, "But you aren't as strong me or your mother…not yet,"

He left out the part that it was unlikely Ares would ever get stronger than his mother…who even bested Pantheon in strength. Likely, it was Artemis that would attempt to do that.

"Oh…" Ares pouted.

"One day, I am sure you will be," he told his son as he picked him up and walked outside, "You might even best me,"

"Really!?" Ares beamed, showcasing a gap in his teeth where one had fallen out.

"Of course!" his father smiled, "Now…we wait for an hour or so to let it rise. So…why don't we enjoy this beautiful day?"

"Race you to Yaya and Papou's house!" Ares yelled, sprinting towards the edge of the village.

 _"Yeah…he's definitely our kid,"_ Arthur chuckled.

"Agreed," Pantheon nodded, giving chase to the four year old.

* * *

Time passed and the boy proudly showcased his creation to his mother, who picked him up and kissed his forehead.

"That was even better than your daddy's!" Leona smiled, her glow filling the home with amber light.

"Come, Leona, I taught the boy everything he knows!" Pantheon protested.

"You might have to find something else to be Artisan of, dear," Leona teased, smirking as a faint glimmer of blue flickered through her irises, "Because our son seems to have taken over your cooking skills!"

"Don't worry Daddy!" Ares beamed, "I'll still let you cook! You just gonna have to go through me first!"

"Is that so?" Pantheon growled playfully, taking the boy from his mother and with a playful roar, tossed the boy in the air before bringing him, squealing, to the ground and tickling him mercilessly, "Who is the best baker in this family?"

"ME!" Ares squealed, getting giggles from his sister.

"Oh really!?" Arthur smirked, tickling his son even more and getting Ares' squeals to increase in loudness, "What was that? I can't hear you over your giggling!"

"D-DAADDDYYYY!" Ares howled, squirming as tears of laughter streamed from his eyes, "DADDY BEST!"

"You better believe it!" Arthur chuckled, picking up his son and hugging him tightly, "And never forget,"

"Daddy?" Ares asked, still breathless.

"Hmm?"

"I wanna be _just_ like you when I grow up,"

Arthur's blue eyes flickered gold and he held his son close.

"That is a noble profession to pursue, Ares," Pantheon murmured, kissing the boy's black curls, "And never let anyone tell you otherwise…"

* * *

 _Twelve Years Later…_

A now sixteen year old Ares stood on the Mountain's peak. His golden eyes gave a worried glance at the figure before him and his sisters…but it had to be done. This Curse on the Mountain had been going on for _far_ too long.

"You can do this Ares," Artemis told him, her grip on her bow shaky, "I believe in you,"

"Same," Apolla agreed, putting a trembling hand on her sheathed blade's hilt.

Ares gave a soft chuckle as he readjusted the grip on his father's spear and shield. The young man calmly walked towards the tall figure in armor and a similar spear and shield. The figure's eyes burned a near crimson, edged in gold through the slits of a helmet that turned the rest of his face to shadow.

"What is your profession, boy," the Pantheon growled, beating the shield with his spear, "You do not have the look of a warrior about you,"

"My profession?" Ares blinked before giving a wry grin, his golden eyes blazing in amusement, "You know…now that I think about it…I've _always_ wanted to be a baker. Just like my dad,"

 **I did say I wanted to write fluff...but I couldn't resist the ending there. Basically...look forwards to seeing Ares and Panth eventually facing off. How it will go? I can't say...spoilers and all :3**

 **Anyway, hope you liked it. If you did, please let me know!**

 **Qui vállë tóquetë, ván tecë (If no review comes from y'all; no story comes from me)**

 **Máriessë ar mára tecië**

 **Farewell and fair writing**

 **Elhini Prime signing off.**


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